I am not picking on Donald Trump.  I would go after Hillary if she were the change agent, and could discuss her flaws and weak spots.  She is not the change agent.  

I need Trump to step up, and GROW UP!  Stop mouthing off like a victim and / or a bully, each mood depending on the the latest news story.  I need Trump to quit being an adolescent, and start acting like an adult running for the President of the United States!

I want to find the pony!  Where there is so much horse shit, there has to be a pony.  I want Trump to show me the pony, the real gift he brings to the party.  I want to believe in a change through Trump, but not the crap he gives us, all negative and, actually defeatist!  He is not a leader who will take us to the promised land.

His latest, see how mature and clever I am idea [NOT]:

Fox headline: "Trump insists election ‘rigged,’ calls for drug test for him, Clinton before debate"

Of course this particular election is rigged, but for the reason Donald thinks.  It is rigged because one of the least capable human beings named Trump is running for President of the United States.  No impulse control, spews hate at almost every other breath [demagogue], disrespects women immensely ["Miss Piggy", a woman sexually harassed at work should find another job, punish women who get an abortion], sexual predator [I'm a celebrity, I can do anything.  I grab their pussy!], and you can finish the list because I have to eat breakfast now.

At

http://gregghake.com/2010/02/the-pony-in-the-dung-heap-ronald-reagan-eleanor-roosevelt-and-you/

The Pony in the Dung Heap, Ronald Reagan, Eleanor Roosevelt and You
Posted on February 28, 2010 by Gregg Hake

"Over lunch today I asked Ed Meese about one of Reagan’s favorite jokes.  “The pony joke?” Meese replied. “Sure I remember it. If I heard him tell it once, I heard him tell it a thousand times.” 

The joke concerns twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities — one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist — their parents took them to a psychiatrist. 

First the psychiatrist treated the pessimist.  Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys.  But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears.  “What’s the matter?” the psychiatrist asked, baffled. “Don’t you want to play with any of the toys?”  “Yes,” the little boy bawled, “but if I did I’d only break them.” 

Next the psychiatrist treated the optimist.  Trying to dampen his out look, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure.  But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight the psychiatrist had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist.  Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands.  “What do you think you’re doing?” the psychiatrist asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. “With all this manure,” the little boy replied, beaming, “there must be a pony in here somewhere!”